


We Heart Jesse McCree

by BlackCatNiku



Category: overwatch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gay, Het, I'm just trying to cover everything, May contain some kinks, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Really corny title, Rule 63, Trans, Unbeta'ed, background ships, crack ships, non-binary, will add more tags as necessary, will put in notes of each chapter if there is anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCatNiku/pseuds/BlackCatNiku
Summary: A collection of one shots (mostly) featuring my favorite cowboy.Most shots will be rated T or lower.  I may do an M or E rated one.  Unsure at the time.  Each chapter will be rated accordingly.





	1. Cold - MeiCree - G

If there was one thing Jesse McCree hated, it was the cold. And unfortunately for him, he had to suffer the cold.

It was just training, others had said. But with Athena and Winston, it wasn't ever just training. They went all out, attempting to make sure whatever simulated area matched the place it was mimicking down to the littlest details. Unfortunately for Jesse, today’s training simulation had been of the Antarctic base. And Mei, fun, bubbly, could probably murder you with a smile Mei, had been on the other team.

Jesse was not happy.

Thus his current predicament. He was huddled in one of the common areas, bundled up in the unfortunately thin couch blanket, with only a thin pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of thin socks. His usual layers were currently being thawed before they had to go in the wash. Jesse had been glad nothing ripped or broke as he had tried to get out of them.

Still, he was cold, and Zarya’s insistence on watching a documentary about Russian winters was not helping. Jesse had been given the stink eye when he had reached for the remote, and had wisely backed off.

Some would question why he didn't get up and leave. Jesse would whine that it was because he was too cold to move.

Throughout Jesse’s whines and grumbles, someone had been working to make up for the harsh training session.

Mei had felt a little guilty for picking on Jesse during the training, but not guilty enough to actually regret it. Besides, in the end it worked out in her favor.

She hummed a happy little tune as she carried one of her thicker fluffy blankets into the common room, which she had asked Athena to lower the temperature in just for this purpose.

Without a word to Jesse, Mei yanked the blanket off of the cowboy’s shoulders, which earned her a startled squawk and a whined out complaint, before she draped her large blanket over Jesse. His complaints settled to little grumbles as he buried himself under the fluffy cover.

Mei quickly busied herself in the small kitchenette area, making herself and Jesse cups of hot cocoa. She returned to the bundled up cowboy and set the two cups on the coffee table in front of the couch. Mei pried open the blanket and deposited herself on Jesse’s crossed legs. His arms wrapped around her, wrapping Mei in the blanket as well, and rested his chin on top of her head. Mei giggled lightly and groped for the remote.

Zarya said nothing as Mei changed the channel to a documentary on polar bears and eyed Jesse as he began to doze, cuddled up against the climatologist. The Russian knew better than to interrupt Mei’s cuddle time with Jesse. She did not want to end up like Reinhardt, who had ended up frozen in a closet with only his underwear on.

Not even Athena had been able to answer how the tiny Chinese woman had done it.

Reinhardt had avoided both Mei and Jesse for a week, much to the cowboy’s confusion. He had never actually found out what had caused the large German’s sudden aversion. And no one had the courage to tell Jesse, not wanting to get on Mei’s hit list.

Mei had decided she was going to have to ask Winston about more training sessions like they had today. After all, Jesse was so much easier to convince cuddles out of when he was cold (not that he was opposed to them normally, but Mei liked these sorts of cuddles a lot), and Mei had no issues supplying her cowboy with cuddles.


	2. Hers - Sombra & McCree - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra is nothing if not a bit obsessive.
> 
> There is some possibly triggering material in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The names used here are not canon (as far as we know for a certain cowboy). I just came up with them for here. I also changed Sombra's age a little bit. She's two years older than in canon, making her five years younger than Jesse, as opposed to seven.
> 
> Anyways, this is not canon compliant. Again, unbeta'ed, but still enjoy.

Maria cursed to hell and back the stupid _pendejos_ that had ruined everything.  The Deadlock gang had finally agreed to a meeting with Los Muertos, and some stupid little gang that no one had even heard of had crashed and all hell broke loose.  For a little pathetic gang, those damn dogs carried some heavy weaponry.  Which caused more damage and chaos then they really should have been able to create in comparison to Deadlock or Los Muertos.

Maria squirmed, trying to free her leg from the rubble that she had gotten trapped under during the beginning of the chaos.  She had no clue where everyone was at the moment.  Both gangs had been scattered by the blast, and the twelve year old had no clue who was alive or dead.  She’d worry about that once she was free.

A sound made her stop her struggles.

Ugly mocking laughter, and disgusting boasting cheers from the sounds of it.  The sound of heavy footsteps drew near. 

These _idiotas_ weren’t even bothering to be quiet or to check to see if everyone was dead.  Well, they would regret it if even one of the Los Muertos was alive.  And if Maria ever got out of here, she was going to make them all suffer in ways that weren’t just physical.  Oh, she would make them suffer.

“You think that little girl made it,” Maria heard a wheezing, raspy voice ask.

“You’re sick man,” a deeper voice laughed.  “I know what you want if she did.”

“What if she’s missing pieces,” a third voice asked.

“Don’t matter,” the first laughed.  “As long as she’s still breathing and she got her cunt.”

The three laughed harder, and Maria felt sick, and she started praying to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in anymore.  _Dios_ , she needed to get out of here.

Maria pulled and pushed harder at the rubble, trying to be as quiet as she could.  She did not want to get caught.  Please, _Dios_ , don’t let her get caught.

The closer the men’s voices got, the closer to tears Maria became.  She had seen what happened to little girls who got caught by men like that.

Maria curled into herself, hoping in a last ditch effort that if she made herself small, they would bypass her.  They were so close.  She never wanted to admit it, but she was scared.

“Hey, did you hear something,” the third voice asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” the deeper voice answered.  “From over there.”

“Maybe it’s the little slut.”  The first sounded so excited.

Maria squeezed her eyes closed tightly and waited for the inevitable.

Three shots rang out, making her jump.  It was followed by thuds of bodies hitting the ground.

“Hey, you okay, niña?” Maria’s head jerked up and she stared wide eyed at the person who stood over here. 

A cowboy of all things stood over her.  A scrawny cowboy, but a cowboy none the less. 

Joel Maverick.  She remembered reading up about him before the meeting.  She had read up on all of the Deadlock members, not just the ones that were supposed to be there, just in case. 

“Hey, you okay,” he repeated. 

“ _Sí_ ,” Maria answered, rubbing her eyes, trying to cover her sniffles. 

“Come on,” Joel said, holstering his gun and grabbing hold of the rubble.  “Let’s get you out of here, and away from these _pendejos_.” 

Maria pulled her leg out with a hiss, grimacing at the sight of and ache in her leg.  She was going to be on forced bed rest for at least a week, even if she could get biotics to help. 

“Shit.” 

Judging from Joel’s reaction, he realized that she wouldn’t be walking out of there on her own.  Joel yanked off his bandana and smacked it heavily on his dusty ill-fitting jeans, trying to clear it of dust as well.  It didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing. 

Maria cringed as Joel tied the piece of cloth around the more heavily bleeding wound, but said nothing.  He had already seen her wipe away the evidence of her earlier near tears moment, he didn’t need anything else. 

“You know where the rest of you are staying,” Joel asked. 

“Don’t know what you talking about,” Maria said stubbornly. 

“Sure you don’t, _pequeña muetre_ ,” Joel said with a crooked smile. 

Maria blinked at him before pouting and nodding.  She should have known better.  All the info on Joel said he hadn’t been to school in years, and that all he was good for was shooting.  But Maria knew better.  She knew how to look between the lines and in places nobody else would look. 

Joel was smart.  He was just very good at playing dumb.  Too good sometimes.  It’s what made Maria take a second look at him.  Then a third and a fourth. 

“Come on,” Joel said, kneeling down in front of her, offering her his back. 

“What makes you think I won’t shoot you,” she asked sharply. 

“Cause desperate times and all that,” Joel answered with an easy drawl.  “Right now, as I see it, you and I are on our own until we can find either Deadlock or Los Muertos.  I don’t know about Los Muertos, but if any Deadlocks survived, aside from me o’course, they’re going to be running back to the boss with their tails between their legs.” 

“Meaning they left you to fend for yourself.” 

Joel shrugged, still waiting. 

Maria frowned deeply before she shimmied forward, and grabbed hold of his shoulders.  Joel reached back, careful of injured leg, and grabbed hold under Maria’s thighs.  He hefted her up as she stood. 

Maria wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and held on as Joel bounced her so he could support her with one arm, and drew his gun with his right. 

“You said you got a gun,” Joel asked. 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, if you do, I need you to watch my back.  Unless you want these _pendejos_ to find us?” 

“No,” Maria snapped, a moment of fear spiking through her gut.  “I’ll watch your back.”

 “Thank you kindly.  Now let’s get out of here.” Maria snorted, and leaned against his back.  They were lucky that no one had come to check for the missing men, or even for the source of the gun shots.  This group was really poorly put together.

 Joel moved a lot quieter than what Maria suspected someone like him would.  But then again, there was more to Joel then the world was willing or able to see.  He was a lot like Maria like that. 

Not that she would tell him.  Joel was Deadlock after all.  Greedy self-serving vultures, that preyed on the weak and only fed money and luxury to the upper members of their gang.

That thought made her pause.  No wonder Joel was so skinny.  Despite his skill, he was only a lower ranking member. Maria sneered.  Even the lowest members of Los Muertos were fed regularly.  Money was distributed evenly.  Though most went back to the streets to help those in need, and into buying supplies to fight LumériCo.  Deadlock was disgusting in Maria’s opinion.

A noise from behind had Maria and Joel both moving.  Joel whipped around as Maria jerked out her little machine pistol that had been fitted specifically for her.  She only ever carried it when she was brought along for jobs. 

Before she could even bring her gun up, Joel’s gun had loosed a crack and a body fell.  There were now yells sounding out.

“Looks like they’ve finally noticed they aren’t the only ones alive,” Maria said. 

“Looks like,” Joel agreed. 

“Guess we better get moving.” Maria grunted out an agreement, before bringing up her screen. 

Why hadn’t she done this before?  Stupid mistake. 

“There’s an exit two hundred meters a head, but it’s not a straight shot,” Maria told Joel.

“Guess you’re my map now,” Joel joked.  “Lead on, _el navegador_.” 

“ _Sabelotodo_ ,” Maria muttered. 

Joel chuckled but began moving forward with loping strides.  Maria had forsaken her gun, unloading it and stashing the clip (no point in giving the enemy a loaded weapon), and grimacing as she tossed it to the side.  She’d deal with the scolding later.  It was just easier this way.

“Take a left here,” she told him. 

He took the turn and then scrambled behind some debris with a soft curse.  There were three more men in the area.  Thankfully, their backs were turned, and they hadn’t noticed the two enter.  Unfortunately, two men stumbled in after them, drawing the attention of the other three, but they didn’t notice Maria and Joel either. 

“Ey,” one of them bellowed.  “You seen them bastards, yet?”

“What bastards,” one of the men that were already there asked.

“The ones that shot Mikey, Hank, Todd, and Miller.” 

“What?  Someone offed the perv?  Good riddance.” 

“And what about the others?”

“We’ll split up and look for them.  They couldn’t have gotten far.” 

The sounds of agreement rose and the men began moving around.  Maria and Joel chanced a glance at each other.  They had to move, and move quickly. 

Maria felt Joel shift, and he set her down as quietly as he could.  He turned to face her and held a finger to his lips, and motioned for her to stay down.  She nodded, nervous.  Joel reached into his belt and pulled out what looked like his last bit of ammo. 

Maria stared at him wide eyed as Joel took a deep breath and then launched himself from behind the debris, rolling across the ground and catching the men’s attention.  Their guns came up and they began firing almost instantly. 

Maria held her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming out.  That _idiota_ had gone and gotten himself killed! 

The men’s gunfire stopped and questions came before laughter followed. 

“Anyone seen where he was hiding?  Maybe he was a distraction.”

 _Mierda_! 

“Not like you’ll ever find out,” came Joel’s drawling response, before, “It’s high noon.” 

Maria swore she felt her heart freeze, and time seemed to slow for a moment, before five almost simultaneous cracks echoed.  Time seemed to restart, and there were the thuds of bodies.  Maria stayed perfectly quiet, listening. 

There was a shuffle and then a heavy thud. 

Risking it, Maria quietly called out, “Joel?” 

“My name’s not Joel,” came a pained, grunted out groan.

Maria peeked out, and saw that Joel was slumped against more debris not far from her.  He must have tried to get back to her and simply couldn’t make it.  Risking it, Maria stood up with a hiss of pain and hobbled as best as she could over to the cowboy and flopped down next to him.

“You okay,” she asked softly. 

“Only got one bullet left.  We might not make it out,” Joel answered instead.

“That’s not what I asked,” Maria huffed. 

“I’ll live.  Just draining is all,” Joel muttered, tilting his head back.  He then huffed out a laugh.   “Shouldn’t have told you that.” 

His accent was thicker with exhaustion.  Maria found she kind of liked it. 

“I won’t tell anyone, _vaquero_ ,” she told him.

Joel chuckled and hummed, closing his eyes.  Maria wondered if they were going to die here.  She hoped not.  Looking at her cowboy, Maria wanted him to have at least one more good meal before he died. 

That made her pause.  Her cowboy? She thought about it.  Yeah.  She liked that.  He was silly and strange and too smart for his own good.  And he stuck his neck out for her.  He looked out for her, so she’s going to return the favor.

She pressed up against his side, and Joel cracked an eye open and titled his head to look down at her.  He closed his eye once more, titling his head. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Why did you say your name isn’t ‘Joel’?  That’s what your file says.” 

“File’s wrong.  Joel’s a dead boy.  No home.  No family.  Died in a ditch somewhere and no one cares.”

Maria looked at him, before she looked down and frowned heavily. 

“So, if you’re not Joel Maverick, then who are you?” 

The cowboy smiled a twisted, self-deprecating little smile and said, “My name’s Jesse McCree.  And you little lady?  What’s your name?” 

Maria thought for a moment and then huffed out with a laugh in a tone that matched Jesse’s smile, “Sombra.  I’m Sombra.” 

Jesse hummed and shifted, bringing an arm up around her shoulders, as if to keep her warm.  His breath evened out, and Sombra realized that Jesse had drifted off to sleep.  She wondered for a moment if she could keep watch, but found herself drifting as well. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sombra sat in her bed, a slight frown on her lips.  

It had been a week since the attack on the meeting, and Sombra had taken sweet revenge on those _pendejos_ who had attacked.  She had ended up in bed for two weeks, as opposed to her estimated one, and she had spent the first two days absolutely wrecking the fools.

She had gotten mildly bored after that, randomly hacking people and companies for the heck of it.  After that became dull as well, she decided to check up on her _vaquero_. 

She was still a little miffed at him for not waking her up when he had, but she guessed she could understand why Jesse had done it. The Los Muetros members that had picked her up said that they had received an anonymous contact with coordinates to her position.  When they had gotten there, expecting an ambush or even out right demands, they had found her curled up, safe and tucked away, her leg wrapped in a dusty red bandana. 

Jesse really was too smart for his own good sometimes. 

But back to the matter at hand.

Sombra did not like what she was seeing.  Her _vaquero_ had gone back to the Deadlocks, only to have been beaten and interrogated for information, as if he had something to do with the attack.  Once they were convinced that Jesse really hadn’t been a part of the attack, there were questions why he stayed.

Jesse played it off, saying he was looking to see if there were any other Deadlocks still there, and to shoot the assholes responsible if possible.  The Deadlocks ate it up as Jesse laid on the charm. 

Yet, here was Sombra’s problem.  Nothing had changed.  Even after telling them those things, Jesse McCree was still low on the totem pole, and he still hadn’t gotten a decent meal.  Sombra had sneered at the food she had watched Jesse eat through a hacked camera.  Pig slop was better.  What made it worse was that the man next to him, who had also been there for the attack but, as far as Sombra had found, had done nothing but run like a coward, was eating so much better. 

At least that man’s food actually resembled food! 

It was disgusting.  Her _vaquero_ deserved better.

A quick search and a simple hack later, Sombra smirked, satisfied with herself.  The little tidbits and coordinates she had left would be enough to get them in gear, and if for some reason that didn’t, Sombra could be more persuasive. 

Jesse McCree would be getting better meals soon.  Whether in jail, or, if they did like Sombra thought they would, in Blackwatch.

Even if she was stuck in bed for the rest of her life, Sombra would make sure her _vaquero_ was well cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest, I really felt sick writing that scene with those three men. I do not condone that sort of thing in any way. Age difference is one thing, but pedophilia is disgusting to me.
> 
> That aside, I don't necessary have an actual opinion of Los Muetros. I'm just going off what I read from the wiki, and also how I figured how Sombra may have seen them before she got herself into a world of trouble. And the thing with Sombra having a gun at her age? Let's be honest, I don't think that Los Muertos would want an asset like Sombra to be undefended at any point.
> 
> I may actually do something else in this little au. I ended up liking it more than I thought. This also turned out longer than I thought it would.
> 
> Also, I apologize if any of the Spanish is wrong. I used the dreaded Google Translate.
> 
> AO3 was mean to me and I had to fix the spacing between paragraphs for all seven pages.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	3. Cost - Reyes & McCree - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe took Jesse with him to the Swiss base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for angst.  
> I was listening to Hozier's Arsonist Lullabye while writing this.  
> Again, unbeta'ed.  
> Enjoy.

It was hot.

Burning.

Suffocating.

Jesse couldn’t breathe.  It hurt too much.  Still, he tried to wheeze, inhaling the smoke that clouded the air around him.

Why?  Why was this happening?  What was happening?

He and Gabe had gone to the Swiss base.  It was supposed to be simple. Explain what had happened on the mission.  Ask about what was being circulated around about corruption in Overwatch.  But that didn’t happen.

Gabe and Morrison had gotten into it.  Morrison ordered Jesse out.  Gabe hadn’t wanted it, but had conceded when Morrison had started to turn his anger on Jesse.  Jesse had wandered, heading towards medical.  Angela was supposed to have been there, and he hadn’t seen her in a while.

Then the shaking had started.  Followed swiftly by the explosion.

Jesse didn’t know where it came from.  Only that he had been caught in it.

 _Dios mío_!  It hurt.  It hurt so much.

“Gabe,” Jesse tried to rasp out.  “Gabe!”

Jesse couldn’t feel anything but the pain.

“Gabe!”

Had he the breath, Jesse would be wailing as the panic set in with the pain.  But all he did was let out wheezing gasps choked out by the smoke and heat.  The tears on his face didn’t last long in the face of the flames that built up around him.

Jesse was going to die, and he was scared.  A feeling in the face of death he hadn’t felt in years.  Not since he was a scrawny runt holding a too big gun, staring down his drunken father.

Deadlock had chased that fear away.  Gabe had made Jesse strong in ways Deadlock couldn’t.

And now, Jesse needed Gabe more than ever.

“ _Papi_ ,” Jesse cried out, his voice getting weaker, warbling with the sobs trapped in his throat.  “ _Papi_.  _Papi_.  _Papi_ , please.”

Jesse cried and cried as the flames descended.  He was scared, and death loomed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabe snarled, a mess of nanites and charred flesh, crawling away from whatever god forsaken lab that the doc had dragged his body to.

With his last strength he had tried to tell her about Jesse.  That she needed to find Jesse.  But she had refused to listen.  So focused on him in her panic.

Gabe supposed he should have been happy that he was the one suffering under the bitch’s care as opposed to Jesse, but he was worried about his boy.  Where was his boy?  Was he safe?  Did he escape the explosion?

Gabe shouldn’t have brought him with him.  He should have left Jesse back with the others.  Jesse shouldn’t have been there.  But Morrison had called him in too.  And then had the gall to send Jesse out, like he was some child.

Rage surged in Gabriel Reyes.  This was Morrison’s fault.  Anything that happened to Jesse was Morrison’s fault.  Too bad he was dead and Gabe couldn’t kill him again.

Getting some semblance of strength back, Gabe managed to hold himself together, and stumbled his way towards the still towering pillar of smoke.

Well, at least he had that amount of luck that the doc’s lab wasn’t too far from where the explosion had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabe stared at the half burned husk that was Jesse McCree.  His soldier.  His subordinate.  His son.

Trapped under rubble, burned, and choked by smoke.

Gabe stared.  His legs gave out.  He could barely stay solid.  A shaking, half solid hand reached out to brush against the unburned cheek.  It was still warm.  Whether from the fire, or if life had only just left him, Gabe didn’t know.

Grief and rage swelled viciously in his gut.

This was Morrison’s fault!

This was Zeigler’s fault!

This was his fault.

“Oh _mijo_ ,” Gabe breathed, leaning in to press his forehead against Jesse’s.  “ _Lo siento, mijo_.  _Lo siento_.”

A slight puff against his face made Gabe jerk up.

“ _Mijo_ ,” he said with baited breath.

It couldn’t be.  Jesse couldn’t still be alive, could he?

Gabe leaned forward again, but there was nothing.  His shoulders sagged.  No.  Jesse wasn’t still alive.

The nanites used to revive him swirled in dark curling mists around Gabe as he stared at the boy who he had dragged in to Blackwatch by his scruff of his neck.  The boy that eventually who had become a son to him.  He had become so important in Gabe’s life.  He couldn’t lose him.  He couldn’t.

As if responding to the thoughts, the nanites surged.

Gabe let out a strangled sound of horror as he watched the mass converge on Jesse, too weak to resist.

Gabe felt as if he had been broken into thousands of different parts.  Seeing, hearing, feeling things in a series of disjointed sensations.  He felt Jesse.  Felt the broken husk as if his boy was under his skin, consuming Gabe while being consumed at the same time.

By the time Gabe came back to himself, he was cursing the German doctor to hell and back and back to hell again.

The nanites settled, allowing Gabe to focus and steady himself once more.  Whatever that had been about, it hadn’t been pleasant.

“ _Papi_?”

The burnt out rasp made Gabe’s snap up.  He stared.

Glazed, unseeing eyes stared out.

“ _Papi_?”

Lips scared at the left corner formed the single word with rasping breaths.

“ _Papi_?”

Panic was beginning to creep into the voice.

“ _Mijo_ ,” Gabe breathed, struggling forward to cup Jesse’s face.  “ _Mijo_.”

“ _P-papi_ ,” Jesse breathed, his free arm weakly reaching up, only to fall back, as the former dead man had very little strength in his body.  “ _Papi_.  I can’t see.”

“It’s okay,” Gabe choked out.  “It’s okay.  I’m here.  I’m here.”

And he was.  He was there for Jesse.  He wouldn’t leave his boy ever again.  Gabe swore he would end everyone and everything that hurt his boy.

Starting with Zeigler, for the damn nanites, a gift and a curse all the same.  They gave Gabe life.  They dragged Jesse back from death.  But what was the cost?

What was the cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is definitely going to have at least one sequel within this collection. I had something planned, and then my brain was like, "We're totally doing some au world building here!", so this is what came out instead. So what I had intended should be coming out soon.  
> Also, I apologize for any pain and tears I brought with this.  
> Thank you all for reading.


	4. Assassin-No Ship-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission goes wrong for Jesse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't actually have a ship, and I apologize. Please enjoy anyways.

It was roughly a year after Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes dragged the scruffy gangbanger Jesse McCree out of Deadlock and into the shadowy grip of Blackwatch before Jesse actually met any Overwatch agents outside of those in his division.  He had heard plenty of stories, and read news on them, but he hadn’t actually met any outside of the Strike Commander.

So he was mildly surprised when Reyes told him with a heavy scowl that Jesse would be part of a joint operation between Overwatch and Blackwatch.

“Not something you want, _jefe_ ,” Jesse asked with drawling ease.

Blackwatch was so small in comparison to Overwatch, that there was a laxer, more evenly footed relationship between all its members.  When it came down to it, rank still mattered, but honestly, especially in Reyes eyes, as he was the unofficial ‘dad’, it was like one big rowdy family.  They were close and mostly easy-going with each other.

“Normally, I’m not bothered by it,” Reyes confessed.  “However, you have never worked with any of the Overwatch agents on this mission.”

“Boss, I haven’t even met any Overwatch agents outside of the oh so high and mighty Strike Commander, whom, I may remind you, I head butted,” Jesse drawled with a slight curling of the corner of his mouth.

Reyes huffed out a laugh at the memory, shaking his head.

“Surely you’ve met some,” Reyes said.

“Nope,” Jesse replied, popping the ‘p’.  “At least, not that I know of.  If I have, they haven’t said anything.”

“You’ve met Angela,” Reyes pointed out.

“I wouldn’t call being yelled at through a video call ‘meeting’, but I guess she could count,” Jesse said with a mild cringe.

He was actually a bit terrified to meet the angelic looking woman face to face.  She had made it very clear what she thought of him and his tactics, as well as his smoking habit, when Jesse had to take a call from her after a mission to gather materials that were apparently for her.  Morrison had sent them on that stupid mission because apparently it was too dangerous for the good doctor, and he hadn’t had the agents to spare.

Reyes shook his head at the reminder.  He had spoken to Morrison about poor Jesse’s verbal beat down, but Morrison had sided with the petite doctor, even going so far as to make his own digs at Jesse.  Reyes sometimes wondered if Morrison was still sore over the fact that a scrawny seventeen year old kid broke his nose.

“I guess you’re right,” Reyes agreed.  “However, that still doesn’t change the fact that you don’t know these people, nor have you worked with them, _vaquero_.”

“What you worried about, _jefe_?  That I’ll hate them all?”

“No.  I’m worried Morrison put you on this job to prove a point, and to make you look bad.”

“He wouldn’t, would he?”

Reyes grimaced.  The Morrison he was with in the war might not have, but this Strike Commander Morrison?  Well, he wasn’t sure what he would do.  Morrison had made his opinions on Jesse pretty clear.  So if he was specifically asking for Jesse on a mission, it left Reyes feeling uncomfortable.

“Don’t know,” Reyes admitted.  “But I expect you to do your best to get along and just get the mission done and over with.”

“Sure thing, _jefe_.  I’ll do my best.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ _Voy a matar a alguien_ ,” Jesse growled under his breath.

A voice in his head, that sounded a lot like an exasperated Reyes, told him not to murder anyone, but it was still a close thing.

Jesse had been nothing but friendly and as helpful as he could be, but he was met with scorn and sneers.

Taking a deep breath, Jesse shifted, grimacing as the too small uniform pulled and pinched and slid into places that were really uncomfortable.  That was going to embarrassing.  Going to medical because he got a dang heat rash from a wedgie.  Reyes would never let him live it down.  Jesse needed to get out of the uniform and soon.

“There a problem, McCree,” the lead agent said with a smirk and a forced imitation of Jesse’s natural drawl.

“None at all,” Jesse gritted.

“Sure.  Whatever you say, McCree,” another agent snorted.

They damn bastards knew!

Jesse really wanted to show them just why he was one of Blackwatch’s top agents, but that would be bad, and Reyes would yell at him.  He didn’t need Reyes yelling at him, or worse.  Worse than Reyes yelling was when he used that calm quiet voice.  Every agent in Blackwatch, whether they were the target or not, trembled in fear when Reyes used that voice.

Maybe Jesse should point Reyes in the direction of these agents.  They should learn to fear the force of nature that is Gabriel Reyes.

  
“McCree, repeat what I just said,” the lead agent barked.

“You and Agent Tuu are going to head to point A.  Agents Row and Miles will head to point B, while Agent Fu heads flanks around the back.  And I keep an eye out from above,” Jesse repeated back easily, doing his best to hide his smugness as the other five agents just stared at him.

Jesse had been trained well on how to still listen while being focused somewhere else.

“Right then.  Since you know where you are supposed to be, then I suggest you move quickly, and _quietly_ to your position as soon as we land.”

There were muffled snickers as Jesse gave his affirmative.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twelve hours into this mission, and Jesse was absolutely positive that these _pendejos_ were doing everything in their power to make him lash out or screw up.

They must have done something to his comm, cause no matter how many times he turned it down, that thing was loud as could be.  He was tempted to turn the damn thing off, but knew he would get into a lot of trouble for it.  Still, it was going to give away his position if something wasn’t done, and soon.

“HA HA!”

Jesse near jumped out of his skin at the sudden boisterous laugh shooting through the comm.

“My friends!  What brings you here this lovely evening?”

“A-Agent Reinhardt,” Tuu stammered.  “Wha-what are you doing here?  The Strike Commander didn’t say you would be here.”

Reinhardt?  Where had Jesse heard that name before?

“Oh.  I am not here for a mission.  Just visiting old friends” the man, Reinhardt, said.

“We heard about trouble here, so we came to take a peek,” came another voice.  Not as loud, but just as distinct.

Both had German accents, Jesse noted.

“O-oh,” the team leader managed.  “Well, I suppose since you are here…”

“Shouldn’t you check that over with the Strike Commander before pulling other agents in,” Jesse asked.  “I do remember the file specifically saying he only wanted six agents on this mission.”

“Oh.  Who is that,” Reinhardt asked.  “I am not familiar with that one’s voice.”

“You wouldn’t have met him, sir,” the leader said placating, before hissing, “Mind your own, McCree and follow orders.”

Jesse could hear the unspoken ‘like the dog you are’ at the end of the order, and had to grit his teeth.  That’s right.  They all saw him as some wild dog, just waiting for the chance to turn on them.

“McCree, is it,” Reinhardt hummed.  “Ah!  Yes!  You are Gabriel’s little protégé, correct?”

“I don’t know about ‘little’, but yeah.  Ga-ahem-Commander Reyes took me in,” Jesse said.  He mentally cursed himself for slipping like that.

The Germans just laughed, and snorts filtered in from Jesse’s team.  He didn’t understand what was so funny, but he’d just have to deal with the mocking laughter.  Not much he could do from this position.

Jesse put the rest of the conversation into the background, and actually took his comm out of his ear, tucking it under the collar of his uniform, trying to muffle it a bit.  He let his eyes scan around.  No point in getting distracted by new arrivals.

A glint of something gave away movement on a roof not far from him.  Jesse watched intently, trying to make sure it wasn’t his imagination.  It wasn’t.

Whatever, or whoever it was, they had a metallic covering of some sort.  Jesse would have guessed Omnic at first, but the movements were so fluid, it almost reminded him of Genji.  And that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

The comm was back in his ear in a heartbeat.

“There’s movement,” Jesse hissed out, and then softly cursed when he realized that they were still talking.

If he got louder, Jesse would give himself away.  If he didn’t do something about the broken comm, he would be given away.  Making a rash decision, Jesse turned the comm off, and shoved it in his pocket.  He would deal with the punishment later.  Right now, he had to make sure his job was done.

Moving swiftly and silently, Jesse made his way across the roof he was on and onto the next.  He was no Genji, but Jesse had been doing this enough to know how to get across easily.  Plus, there was the added advantage of all these roofs being so close together.

Jesse tracked the glint like a hound, and noted that it seemed to be on a mission.  Heading straight for Jesse’s comrades and their companions.  Agent or no, the man Reinhardt clearly wasn’t on duty, and whoever was with him clearly wasn’t an agent.  This was so going in his report to Reyes.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the glint seemed to vanish.

“Shit,” Jesse cursed under his breath.

Gun drawn, Jesse moved slowly, casing the area.  Carefully, cautiously, Jesse pulled the comm back out and turned it on.

“McCree!  What the hell?!”

“I had to,” McCree snarled something softly.  “Ya’ll were going to give away my position.”

“Do not blame your stupidity on us,” the leader snapped.  Jesse made a noise of protest, but was cut off.  “See if I don’t have you court marshalled for this, you damn idiot.”

“Now now,” Reinhardt sounded, a lot more softly in the background.

“No, sir,” the leader insisted.  “He’s been a menace all mission.  He needs to deal with the repercussions of his choices.”

Then Jesse saw it.

Shit.

“ASSASSIN,” he bellowed as the Omnic launched itself at him.

Jesse had only heard stories from Reyes, and seen really blurry pictures of Omnic assassins.  He had never seen footage or even seen a dead one.  They had been a terror in the war, slipping in and out with nary a trace.  Able to hack most computers and terminals.  They were a force of nature captured in a metal shell, and they seemed to know it.

The Omnic slammed into Jesse with shocking force, knocking him to the ground with ease, forcing Jesse to drop his gun.  He could hear it skitter across the roof, and Jesse cursed himself for not keeping a grip on it.

“Shh,” the Omnic hissed softly at him, as if soothing a frightened child.  “It will be over soon.  I promise.”

That just made this situation so much worse.

But Jesse refused to go down without a fight.

“Not if I have something to say about it,” Jesse grunted, and bucked, throwing his full weight behind the move and managing to unseat the Omnic.  There was a sharp pinch in his wrist as if some of his skin was caught in between the Omnic’s joints, but Jesse paid it no mind.

Jesse vaguely noted he heard his comrades yelling in the background, demanding where he was, as he scrambled across the roof for his gun.

Jesse twisted around as soon as his hand curled around the hilt, and froze.  It was gone.  The Omnic was gone.

Jesse scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding in his ears.

“McCree, where the fuck are you,” came the bark across the comm.

“South side,” was all Jesse dared to breathe, carefully moving around, eying every speck of darkness for any sign of the assassin.

“What the fuck are you doing there,” the leader snarled.  “You were supposed to stay on the east side.”

“I was following the assassin headed straight for your sorry asses,” Jesse snarled back.

“Poor thing,” came the croon above him.

Fuck.

Jesse whipped around and fired off two quick shots, before rolling backwards to get away when the thing jumped down.  Jesse couldn’t stop the yelp that left him as he rolled off the edge of the roof.  Thankfully, he landed on a lower roof, as opposed to the ground, but it still left him winded as he finished his roll.

“All they do is yell at you and mock you,” the Omnic continued to croon as Jesse backed away from the higher roof.

Why couldn’t Jesse tell where the damn thing was?

“They even stuck you in a suit that was too small.  How cruel.  Left you on your own.  Set you up as bait with a broken communicator.”

Jesse felt a chill race down his spine.  He was beginning to understand why these things were such a terror.  They didn’t just kill.  They played fucking mind games!

Vaguely, Jesse heard Reinhardt’s companion asking if that was true.  Of course there were denials, but Jesse was more focused on finding the damn Omnic that had apparently set its sights on him.

“You try and you try.  Swallowing your pride.  Not complaining about anything.  But still, they are so harsh on you.  Digging at what they perceive as your flaws, your weaknesses.  Discrediting your skills.”

Jesse felt a shudder run through him.  He needed to get away from this thing.  It must have hacked into his files somehow.  How it got past Athena, Jesse wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to know.

“You got where you are for a reason.  They just don’t understand.  All they see is some wild dog, out of control and ready to turn on them.”

Jesse felt a cold dread spread through him.  Those were his thoughts earlier.  Was he that readable?  Or did that thing somehow know his thoughts?

“Always having to watch your own back around them.  Always waiting for the axe to fall and have your life ripped away from you again.”

Jesse tried telling himself to stay calm, but panic was spreading along with the cold.  His limbs started to feel numb and his breathing hitched.

“They’ll take it from you, if they had a chance.  You know they would.  They might even shoot you in the back, if given the chance.  They’re scared of you.  They’re scared of what you can do.  What you could become.”

Jesse felt the world funnel.  Why couldn’t he breathe?  Why was this bothering him so much?  Why was his heart pounding so loud?  Why did the swift oddly rhythmic thuds sound so heavy and metallic?

Jesse’s hands were shaking as the Omnic stepped into view in front of him.

“So much potential,” the Omnic cooed, and Jesse could only stare at it.

His head swam.  All he could focus on was the Omnic.  His arms felt so heavy.  Unable to keep them up, Jesse felt them shake as he dropped them and his gun.

If the Omnic could smile, Jesse swore the thing would have as it took a step towards him.

It didn’t take another as a huge grey blur slammed into it with a yell.  Jesse’s legs gave out as he heard the Omnic screech in what must have been pain as it was slammed into a wall.

Jesse couldn’t focus on what was going on, but he could hear the sounds of a fight nearby, as if he were underwater.

There was a crunch, and then large hands were cradling him, holding him up as the rest of his body began to numb.

“Little one,” Jesse heard above him as he was gently shaken.  “Little one, are you alright?”

“N-not…little,” Jesse slurred managing to roll his head back.  Then he blinked at the man over him.  “Oh.”

He was huge.  Taller and broader than Jesse, and damn!  Jesse was little next to him.

“N-now I know why that name was familiar,” he muttered.

Reinhardt.  The ex-Crusader.  Reyes had talked about him.  Mentioned that the man was larger than life.  Jesse hadn’t thought he had meant literally.

“Come on little on,” Reinhardt said.  “We must get you to a medic.  You did very well.”

“N-no, I didn’t,” Jesse grumbled.  He felt more sluggish than before.  And cold.  He felt really cold.  “Fr-froze up.  Panicked.”

“Perhaps,” Reinhardt said, lifting Jesse into his arms easily.  He cradled the younger man in one arm and picked up his hammer.  “But you cannot be faulted for what occurred.  Omnic assassins are feared for a reason.”

Jesse muttered something incomprehensible even to his own mind, and shuddered.

“Are you alright, little one,” Reinhardt asked.

“Just cold,” Jesse slurred.  “Real cold.”

Reinhardt hummed and shifted Jesse to rest as comfortably as he could against the armor, hoping that its warmth would warm him some.  Jesse made a soft noise of thanks before the darkness finally took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The repetitive beeping is what finally woke Jesse up.

His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the white ceiling of medical.  Jesse hated medical.

His head lolled to the side and he spotted a pile of gifts off to the side.  Judging from what some of them were, they were get well gifts from other Blackwatch agents.  A slight smile twitched at his mouth.  At least Jesse still had Blackwatch.

Speaking of Blackwatch, Jesse could hear Reyes snapping and hissing at someone as he walked down the hall.  Jesse strained his hearing, but could not hear any response over the sound of footsteps.

The door to the room opened revealing both Reyes and, surprisingly, Morrison.

“I don’t care what bull they are feeding you,” Reyes hissed, and judging from his tone, this was something he had repeated many times already.  “Are you seriously going to take their word over Reinhardt’s?  Reinhardt’s of all people?”

“I want to speak with McCree, before I do anything,” Morrison responded, his patience sounding strained.

“Well, I’m up,” Jesse rasped, startling them both.  “So ask away.”

“Oh _mijo_ ,” Reyes breathed moving to sit on the bed next to Jesse.  “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a charging Crusader,” Jesse joked.

Reyes gave a strained chuckle, and even Morrison fought a twitch of his lips.

“But honestly,” Jesse added, “I’m really sluggish.”

“That’s to be expected,” Morrison said.  “Assassin’s poison is no joke.”

“Poison,” Jesse asked.

“Yeah, mijo,” Reyes said nodding towards his wrist.  “It got you with its poison.  Slows your responses, makes your vision funnel, drastically starts to lower your body temperature.”

Jesse glanced at his wrist and saw it was wrapped in bandages.

“Oh.  I thought I just got pinched by a joint or something.”

Reyes and Morrison shared a look, before Morrison asked, “Why would you think that?”

“The thing tackled me and I bucked it off.  Thought I got pinched in the scuffle.”

“You…bucked it off,” Reyes asked.

“Yeeeessss?”

Jesse watched the concerned look pass between the two.

“McCree, assassins are built to take out targets quickly and efficiently,” Morrison said.  “If it tackled you, it should have killed you quickly.”

“Well, it tried,” Jesse said.  “Told me that it would be over soon, and was going to go for the kill but I fought back.”

“That’s not unheard of,” Reyes said, glancing back at Morrison.  “Them telling their target they’re going to kill them.”

“Yeah, by the way,” Jesse grumbled.  “You never warned me that those things play fucking mind games.”

Reyes and Morrison grimaced.

“Great.  One of those,” Reyes grumbled.

“I guess it’s a good thing Reinhardt killed it,” Morrison added.

“One of what,” Jesse asked, squinting at them suspiciously.

Reyes grimaced again and said, “Some of the assassins liked messing with their targets or those around their targets.  I never thought that you would encounter one, _mijo_ , so I never thought to bring it up.”

“Neither of us thought that there were any chances of anyone running into Omnic assassins,” Morrison admitted.  “We thought they were all decommissioned and destroyed.”

“Looks like we were wrong.”

Morrison nodded, then his face hardened.  He inhaled sharply and faced Jesse, saying, “Assassin aside, McCree, I really have to ask, did you turn your comm off?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jesse admitted.  Reyes looked at him with disappointment, and Morrison scowled, so Jesse quickly added, “the thing was broken or something.  Volume was at full blast and wouldn’t go down.  I had to turn it off so I could track the Omnic.”

Jesse paused and then huffed out a self-degrading laugh.

“Though I guess the damn thing knew I was there the entire time.”

“I’ll ask the tech about if there was anything wrong with any of the comms,” Morrison said.  “You should have said something about that to your team leader though.”

“They’d have called me a liar,” Jesse snapped, and then hissed, forgetting that his body was still tender.

“Easy, _mijo_ ,” Reyes soothed.  “Tell us what happened.”

“Gave me a broken comm, stuck me in a suit too small, picked at me every chance they got,” Jesse grumbled.  “That damned assassin hacked our comms and used that information against me.  Even said they set me up as bait.”

A chill slipped up Jesse’s spine.

“Was that actually our mission,” Jesse asked Morrison.  “To hunt that thing down and kill it?”

“No,” Morrison said firmly when Reyes whipped around to stare him down.  “We didn’t know there was going to be an assassin.  I didn’t know.  I swear, Gabe!  I didn’t know.”

Reyes seemed to relax and nodded, turning back to Jesse.

“We’ll take care of this, Jesse,” the Blackwatch commander told him.  “Just rest and recover.”

Morrison took that as his que to leave, but before doing so, he walked over and placed his hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“You did good out there, M…Jesse.”

He left after that, but Jesse couldn’t help but feel that the words were a lie.

Jesse and Reyes sat there in silence for a long moment before Jesse finally said, “Gabe?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“If the mission was just what Morrison had told us about,” Jesse began, and then hesitated, before finishing up with a small and shaken voice, “then why was an assassin sent after us?”

Reyes stiffened, and his jaw set.

“I don’t know, _mijo_.  I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing it, it was suppose to be ReinCree, but it didn't end up that way. It got away from me, and is now the lead up for another piece I am going to post in here at a later date. And it ended up being 10 pages long. It wasn't suppose to be this long.
> 
> Omnic assassins are not canon (that I know of. I could find no information on such a thing existing)! I came up with the idea a while ago had wanted to use it eventually. Apparently, one decided to pop up sooner than expected.  
> The Spanish Jesse is muttering is him saying he's going to murder someone. I apologize if that is not grammatically correct or not correct in general.
> 
> Initially when I was writing this, Jesse was only going to be having a panic attack, but I wasn't sure if that was fully plausible (and this is from someone who has suffered from panic attacks before) as to why he freaked out so badly, so the poison ended up being an excuse as to why Jesse freaked out as badly as he did.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading. Enjoy and feel free to comment.


	5. Caretaker-Jesse & Everyone Pt.1-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse likes take care of people. Even if some don't think they deserve it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was initially suppose to be one big long piece, but for my sanity and the hopes of actually getting it done, I am breaking it up. So there will be more. Enjoy.

Jesse McCree was a caretaker.  Always had been.  Even if someone didn’t actually need looking after, Jesse somehow found a way anyways.

His mother had adored this about him.  Most of Deadlock had mocked him for it.  Those that didn’t were grateful they didn’t starve when things got tight.  Members of Blackwatch found it annoying and endearing.  And the few agents of Overwatch who got caught up in Jesse’s caretaking ranged from being flattered to frustrated to confused.

Even after Jesse left Blackwatch, it didn’t stop.  If he saw someone in need, Jesse found some way to help if he could.  When Overwatch reformed, Jesse was happy to once more be in a place where he could look after his friends, and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live!


	6. Caretaker-Jesse & Mei Pt.2-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei overworks. Jesse makes sure she at least eats.

Mei hummed cheerfully as she looked over her work, pleased with the progress she saw.  The work she had done could prove to be absolutely beneficial to so many places.  She couldn’t wait to try and see if she could get it into action.

Unable to stop herself, Mei suddenly found herself yawning widely.  Confused, she looked at the clock.

“Goodness,” she said blinking afore mentioned clock.  “I can’t believe it is that late already.”

Mei’s stomach gave a loud gurgle, reminding her that, not only was it late, but that she had also missed dinner.

With a sheepish laugh at herself, Mei decided to go wander up to the main common area, which served as a lounge and a kitchen, with the intent to grab a quick snack and then head to bed.  When she wandered in, Mei went straight for the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water, but paused when she saw a note on the door with her name on it.

‘Mei,

I figured you got yourself buried in your work again, so I made you something to eat whenever you decide to wander on up.  It’s a new recipe I wanted to try out, but I thought you might like it.  I hope you enjoy.

-Jesse’

Mei smiled sweetly at the note.  Jesse always did make sure she was well fed, and even sometimes took time out of his day to come down and check on her, making sure she was hydrated and taking, often times much needed, breaks.

Opening the fridge, Mei quickly found the food that Jesse had made for her, and felt a rush of affection.  He had made her one of her favorite foods from home.  He always did look after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day. Whee. Well, actually, there will be at least three. Four if I can get away with it. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.


	7. Caretaker-Jesse & D.Va Pt.3-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.Va isn't upset. Really. She's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to "Human" by Rag'n'Bone Man while writing this part, if anyone is interested.

Hana was not upset.  She was being very mature about this whole business.  She didn’t need anyone side-eyeing her over something as stupid as this.

So what if she wasn’t allowed on a mission that went to Korea?  Who cares if she was probably not going to see her home again for who knows how long?

She could handle it.  She didn’t need the looks or the words trying to soften some non-existent hurt.  She was fine.

…………

She was seriously not fine.

Hana had locked herself in her room after the third or fourth sympathetic word about her not being on the mission.

She couldn’t take it.  She missed home.  She missed it so much.

Hana didn’t regret joining the new Overwatch, but sometimes, she really missed her home.  She missed her family and friends.  Late nights just hanging around and being a kid (when she got the chance).  She missed the closeness of her and her friends curled up together watching a movie and drinking banana milk and eating bunny shaped apples.

She missed it.

But she was a soldier.  She was strong.  She was D.Va.  She could handle this.  She could ignore the sting of not going home for the sake of the world safety.  It was more important than her own selfish wants.

Hana bit her lower lip.  She had to keep telling herself that.  She wouldn’t be able to keep up with everything if she didn’t.

Falling apart wasn’t an option.  She had to be the soldier.  It was her responsibility.

A knock on her down, made Hana jump.

“Who is it,” she asked, cringing slightly as her voice cracked.

“It’s McCree,” came the answer.  “Mind if I come in?”

Hana blinked, staring at the door.  McCree had been on the mission to Korea, and he was back already?

Inhaling deeply, Hana rose from where she had been sitting and went to the door.  D.Va rose to the surface and she opened the door preparing a cheerful and cocky response.

It died in her throat, and she couldn’t help but gape.

McCree stood there with a large rabbit plush tucked under one arm and what looked like a picnic basket was hanging off the other.

“Howdy there, darling,” McCree greeted her.

“What is that,” Hana couldn’t help but ask, pointing at the rabbit.

“Oh.  Well, I saw this fella here after the mission and thought of you,” McCree offered with a slightly crooked smile.  He then went on and explained further, “I was feeling kind of bad about you not being able to come with us, and thought I would get you something.”

The cowboy held out the rabbit to Hana who hesitantly took it and looked it over.

It was almost as tall as she was, and honestly would probably be really good for cuddling.  It was soft too.  Really nicely soft.  It was white with bright pink eyes and floppy ears.  And it was probably the nicest thing Hana had gotten in years.

“Darling?”

Hana hadn’t realized that tears had started falling until McCree had spoken.

She awkwardly tried to wipe her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Oh honey,” McCree said softly, stepping closer to her.

He set down his basket on the ground, and carefully took the rabbit from Hana, setting it aside as she tried to wipe away the tears that would not stop.

“I-I don’t know wh-why I’m crying,” Hana choked out.  “I-I’m sorry.”

“Darling,” McCree soothed.  “You don’t have to be sorry.  Come here.”

McCree carefully pulled her into a hug and Hana couldn’t have stopped herself if she could as she returned the hug and clung to him.

“You’re only human, darling,” McCree said, gently running his hand through her hair.  “It’s okay to cry every now and then.  It’s okay to miss your home.”

Hana didn’t know how long they stood there, her crying her eyes out and McCree being there as her support, but it finally subsided, she felt exhausted.

McCree ushered her into her room, and fetched the rabbit and the basket.  He got one of her blankets and tucked it around her as she settled.

A giggle escaped Hana when McCree set the rabbit behind her and wrapped its arms around her shoulders.  She grabbed them and pulled the plush closer to her back.  He smiled at her and set the basket in front of her.

“The rabbit wasn’t the only thing I got,” he told her, sitting down beside her.

“You didn’t have to,” Hana told him, her voice coming out smaller than she ever wanted to admit.

“Maybe not, but I still felt bad about you not being able to see your home.  Now I know this isn’t any replacement for you seeing it, but I thought maybe some things from there might help.”

He flipped open the lid and pulled out…

“Is that banana milk,” Hana found herself asking in stunned astonishment.

“Sure is, darling,” McCree answered with a smile.  “Winston may or may not be mad at me for buying a couple dozen things of the stuff.  And there was also a mild threat of him drinking it.”

“He better not touch my banana milk,” Hana found herself yelling.  And the cringed.  “I mean…”

“Nah,” McCree said easily.  “I bought the stuff for you.”

Hana squealed and tackled the cowboy next to her.  He laughed and gave her another hug.

When he pulled out the apples cut into the shape of rabbits, Hana found herself declaring that McCree was now one of her favorite people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea of big brother/crazy uncle/maybe slightly father-figure (though honestly, I'm really down for Dad76, but I can see McCree being fatherly) McCree for D.Va.  
> Also, for the whole banana milk thing with D.Va, I'll be honest and was inspired by the fic "The Cooking Cowboy, With Jesse McCRee" by SadakoTetsuwan. It's a good fic, I highly recommended it. But also be warned, you may want to start cooking stuff as you read this fic.


	8. Rescue - NoShip - T (to be safe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse has a point to prove. He doesn't care if he gets in trouble.

London was cold.  A lot different than the heat that often plagued Coyote.  Heat that often snapped at his heels like a starving version of his namesake, eager to remind him of the flames that still haunted his nightmares.

Coyote liked London.  If only to take the memory of the heat away for whatever precious moments he could have.

However, he was not here for pleasure.  He had a job to do.  Well, more like he had a job to screw up.  He would deal with the consequences later, but he knew there was another way to spark the conflict than what was about to occur.  And he intended to prove.

Besides, he may have actually liked the Omnic Widowmaker had been sent to kill.  Coyote found him inspiring and wise.  There were things that Coyote knew he could, and had, learned from listening to him.

Okay, so this was slowly becoming more and more personal to Coyote, but he was still going to prove a point.

Ducking down on a rooftop far enough away, Coyote slipped from his mission gear into civilian clothes.  A heavy scarf, a large knit beanie, and his long hair braided to the left covered the heavy burn scars that ravaged the left side of Jesse McCree’s face.  A heavy trench coat completed the look.

If anyone asked, he could truthfully tell them that he wasn’t used to colder climates.  Being from the desert, it would be easily believable if someone pushed.

Making sure the coast was clear, Jesse stepped off the edge of the building.  A rush of nanites later, and he was safely on the ground, walking down the street as if nothing was wrong.

Jesse moved down the street as if he had no hindrance, hands in his pockets, one wrapped around a key item for the night, heading to his destination with purpose.  Bangs and the shadows of his beanie and scarf hide Jesse’s blind eyes.  No one would be the wiser.

Well, Widowmaker might, once he pulled his little stunt.  She was going to pout and sulk.  Jesse was sure of it.  Jesse would send Sombra after her.  That would probably help.

…..

Okay.  That wouldn’t help at all, but it would be hilarious.

With a huff of amusement to himself, Jesse slipped into the eager crowd that was waiting for the arrival of Tekhartha Mondatta.  Humans and Omnics mingled, some with signs proclaiming their support and agreement.

Jesse smiled slightly as his nanites alerted him to two in particular.  A human and an Omnic.  They were cuddled together, and Jesse’s sharp ears could faintly pick up their soft talk.  It was sweet.

His nanites alerted Jesse to another presence in the crowd, and Jesse smirked slightly.  Of course Lena would be there.  London was her home after all.  He wondered if she would notice what was about to occur.

Jesse felt his ears perk and his nanites stirred eagerly when they felt…something as a car pulled up just outside of the crowd.

Cocking his head, he focused on his target slipping from the car as the bodyguards began parting the crowd.  Jesse was right in their path, but he easily and willing moved out of the way as they came near.  He offered a kind smile as one of the guards neared him in a move that was clearly assessing.  Looks like someone had a problem with how bundled up he was.

The bodyguard however moved on, and Mondatta drew near, surrounded by more guards.

Jesse was glad that Gabe had pushed him to practice control over his nanites, because if he hadn’t Jesse was sure he would have given himself away.  Something about the Omnic made them surge and hunger, for the lack of a better word.  They wanted to get close to the Shambali leader, and Jesse had no clue why.

When Mondatta went to past Jesse, he paused, for only a moment, and looked at the bundled up man, before moving on.

Jesse suppressed a shudder.  Mondatta was warm, but not in a way Jesse was used to.  And it wasn’t just the heat of his body.  There was something else warm.  Something.

Jesse snapped his attention to the front and tried to ignore his nanites and his own confusion and mild discomfort.

He was there for a reason, and he was going to stick to it.

Listening to Mondatta speak was always something Jesse enjoyed.  Perhaps the Omnic would be willing to speak with Jesse later.  Jesse hoped the Omnic would be willing, given what Mondatta preached.  But sometimes it was hard to tell how someone would react once they were kidnapped.

Lena moved, leaving the crowd, and Coyote knew his time was about to come.  Keen, nanite enhanced ears perked at the sound of gunfire.  No one else seemed to notice.

Soon it would be time to act.

There was silence.

And Coyote moved.

A swirling storm of dust was what witnesses would report.  Widowmaker would know what it was, but no one else.

The sharp crack of Widowmaker’s shot resounded in Coyote’s skull as he slammed into Mondatta in a storm of nanites, sweeping the Omnic away from the podium and the crowd.  Away from his guards and Widowmaker’s line of sight.

“Stop.”

Coyote’s breath caught sharply in his throat as his body jerked to a halt some distance away.  He was crouched, still clinging to the Shambali’s waist.  Coyote felt a hand touch his free shoulder, and a shudder ran through him.  It was warm, and Coyote wanted to rip himself away from the touch.

“I thank you for saving me, but please put me down,” Mondatta said.

Coyote let go and backed away, still crouched low.  He kept himself between Mondatta and the alley entrance.  It was aggravating to expose his back in such a manner, but he couldn’t give Mondatta a chance to head back out into the open.

“Why do you block my path,” Mondatta asked.

Coyote remained silent for a moment, cocking his head, listening.

“She’s still looking for you,” he finally said, and then chuckled, more to himself than the Omnic, “And she’s not happy with me.”

“You know the assassin,” Mondatta stated.  No questions.  Just a calm acknowledgement.  “What do you intend to do with me then?”

Coyote stood up straight, reaching into the pocket of his coat.  Even at his full height, he was still shorter than Mondatta, and for some reason, his nanites shuddered as he considered it. Coyote shook his head.  He would never fully understand those strange things that were a part of him, yet seemed to have a life of their own.

“I’m going to take you some place safe,” Coyote told him.

“Let me inform someone then.”

“No can do, sir,” Coyote drawled, feeling a bit guilty about what he was about to say in do.  “Tonight, your death was supposed to ignite the start of a new revolution.  But I am aiming to prove, you disappearing after an attempt will do just what we need.”

Coyote withdrew his hand from his pocket and tossed the item within it at Mondatta.  The monk let out a surprised gasp as a minor EMP went off, knocking him offline.

Coyote stepped forward and picked up the now spent charge, before hefting the Omnic over his shoulder once more.

Time to pick up his stuff and head back to base.

Boy was he going to hear about it later.  But with a satisfied whistle, Coyote felt it was well worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I'm not dead!
> 
> So this is part 2 of what I have started calling the "Coyote 'verse". I will definitely be doing more in this 'verse. I have a lot of things planned out for it.
> 
> Again, no ship for this chapter, mostly cause this is more world building/leading up to ships.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment or leave kudos.


	9. Raven and Dove -OC/Jesse & Moira - G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira has a guest she is quite happy to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was debating on rating this one T just because it had a little bit darker themes, but I don't think it's quite bad enough for that. So think of it as high G.
> 
> I'll say it now, and repeat it again at the end: This relationship all around is unhealthy on several levels.

A grunt alerted Doctor Moira O’Deoriam that her patient was awake.

With a hum, she set her tablet and down and pushed herself towards the clinical recliner her guest was laid out on.  She looked him over briefly, though she knew he were fine.  She had checked him over as soon as he were delivered to her.

Of course, she had ended up noting a few agents who had so graciously volunteered for some of her upcoming experiments with how they handled her guest.

“Doc,” a rough cough sounded.

“Hello, my raven,” Moira greeted with a pleased curl of her lips.

“Hey,” the man said with a strained cocky grin.  “Thought I would end up ‘ere sooner.”

“Yes, well, apparently our little dove is a lot more stubborn than either of us had originally thought,” Moira agreed.

The man gave a huff of a laugh.

“’E always was.  ‘S one of the reasons I love ‘im so.”

“Indeed,” Moira said with a smile of her own.

Back to business at hand though.

“My raven,” she said, drawing his attention from where ever it had wandered.  “I need some answer, if you would not mind.”

“Not at all, Doc,” the man agreed with a lazy smile.  “What ya need to know?”

“Your arm for one thing,” she responded.

The man looked down at his mechanical arm.  He lifted it and moved his fingers around, clenching and unclenching them.

A bitter smile twisted his lips.

“Our dove got in over ‘is head and I had to scoop ‘im out.  Got caught in an explosion while huntin’ an arms dealer.”

The man then snorted at the irony of the statement.  Moira watched the man run through the memory in his mind, his hand clenching tightly to the point where she could hear the metal beginning to grind in a way that was definitely not good for the joints.

“My raven, I know you are upset, but we must proceed,” she said.  “We can figure out how to help our dove later.  We must help you first, so you can be strong for our dove.”

The man loosened his fist and relaxed.

“Right.  Sorry, Doc,” he said.  “Had to have a black market doc take it off the part that was too mangled.  Killed ‘em off when they decided they were goin’ to try for that bounty.”

“Good,” Moira said firmly.

“Our dove’s got a soft heart.  Called in a favor from that engineer.  The short one.”

“I know whom you speak of.  Good craftsmanship, if not an annoyance to speak with.”

“Yeah.  Got both of us set right up, real nice.  Not that I think that fool knew.”

Moira let the cold smile curl across her face.

“So aside from your arm, was there anything else,” she asked.

“Not much.  With the recall, our dove and I got a good check over.”

“By whom,” Moira demanded.  She did not like others touching what was her’s.

“Zeigler,” the man admitted.  Seeing Moira’s look, he quickly added, “I didn’t like it, and neither did our dove.  But we had no choice.  It was either that, or we raised suspicions.  Though I think that old soldier already had some.”

“Old soldier,” Moira started and then clicked her tongue.  “No.  We’ll worry about that later.  What did you mean that our dove didn’t like Zeigler looking him over either?”

“Not sure, but ‘e was antsy about it.  Real nervous.  Scared about ‘er findin’ somethin’.  Maybe ‘is smokin’ habit.  Don’t know.  ‘E’s been clammed up real tight about it.”

Moira made a humming sound.  If their dove was nervous about something, than she needed to know.

“Well, thank you for informing me,” Moira told him.  “For now, you need rest, my raven.  I have a space set up just for you and our dove.  Now I must speak with our dove before I can take you there.”

“Okay, Doc,” the man said with a grateful smile.  “Be nice to get some sleep without havin’ to worry about someone tryin’ to stab us in the back.”

“You are safe here, with me, my raven,” Moira said, cupping the cheek of her guest.

He turned into her touch with a happy hum and momentarily closed his eyes.  When they opened again, it was not Moira’s raven that stared back at her, but one very confused Jesse McCree.

“Moi-!”

Moira caught his face firmly in her grasp, cutting him off and aborting his attempt to jerk back away from her.

“Joel tells me that you have been keeping things from him, my dove,” Moira told him with slight disappointment coloring her tone.  “You _will_ tell me.  Am I clear?”

Jesse shuddered heavily once, before he went limp.

“Yes, Moira,” he answered softly.

Moira smiled and released his face to run her fingers through his hair.

 

 

When Moira had joined Blackwatch, Jesse McCree supposedly belonged to Gabriel Reyes.  However she was quick to find that another had already laid claim to Blackwatch’s resident cowboy, who was so oddly endearing that even Moira was drawn to him.

Knowing she could not claim Jesse in a more straight forward manner, she had instead gotten to know the fierce personality that was Joel.

Joel was vicious, cruel, and possessive of everything he viewed as his, including Jesse.  But he needed a strong hand to guide him, and Moira had taken great pleasure in being that person.

So while many believed Jesse McCree belonged to Gabriel Reyes, he actually belonged to Joel.  And Moira made quite sure that Joel belonged to her.  Her raven and her dove.  Her two perfect little birds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I repeat: This relationship is unhealthy on several levels.
> 
> But anyways, I love Moira. I need to write more with her. I can totally see her being a teacher (grudgingly) or a sort of antagonizing frenemy for Jesse.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Feel free to comment or leave kudos.


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